


Hot and Bothered

by CuriosityRedux



Series: Dragon Drabbles Berk [55]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Hiccstrid - Freeform, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-08-30 04:09:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16757395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriosityRedux/pseuds/CuriosityRedux
Summary: Astrid takes particular offense to diplomatic affairs.





	Hot and Bothered

**Hot and Bothered**

**-**

“Of all the  _low life_ ,  _unintelligent,_ completely  _idiotic_  things to say!” Astrid paced furiously across their quarters, only pausing to retrieve her throwing knives from the wall and embed them in the cabin door in the same breath. “How  _dare_  he? Who does he think he is?!”

Hiccup sat back in a chair by the table, his arms folded over his chest. To see the young chief of Berk’s distracted frown, one would think he’d been as offended as his wife by the proposal she’d received from their ally’s chief. It’d certainly made Gobber gasp, and even Spitelout’s eyebrows had shot upwards.  _That_  was when Hiccup had entered the hall with Toothless, clueless to the sudden tension he’d stepped into. Astrid immediately made it very clear that she was  _not_  Gobber’s tag-along daughter, but in fact the wife of the man who’d tamed a Night Fury and stared down Drago Bloodfist. 

“I’m pretty impressed,” the young man’s mentor told him later. “I really thought she was going ta turn his balls into bolas.”

Yes, Astrid’s temper was in fine form after the encounter. She’d maintained a polite front during their meeting, but as soon as they’d retreated back to their quarters on the ship, she’d exploded. She refused to sleep in the rooms they’d offered. Hiccup’s eyes watched the sway of her hips as she crossed the little space, sliding down the length of her toned thighs and slender legs. Her furious pace reminded him of a dragon stalking back and forth in front of its territory. 

He stood, waiting until she’d thrown the last of her knives to snake his arms around her waist from behind. She flinched, not expecting his tenderness in her rage, and huffed. “You know,” he murmured, placing kisses along the line of her neck as his palms slid over the flat planes of her stomach. “He’s not bad looking. You could do worse.”

Astrid snorted and placed her hands on top of his, though she didn’t stop their journey. “The  _only_  reason I didn’t break his nose was because I wanted to see his face when he realized he screwed up.”

His chuckle warmed the back of her neck, making her shiver. There was something dark and silvery in the low sound, an exciting tone she rarely heard from him. “Every chief needs a wife like you.” Fingers traced the shape of her waist, the dip of her navel. “Graceful. Fierce. Intelligent.” Then his touch was sliding lower, breaching past the hem of her skirt. “…Loyal.”

Astrid felt her heart take on a new rhythm, the friction melting away her irritation. “I won’t argue with you, but what’s this about?” She gasped when he jerked her none too gently to his writing desk and pressed her over the back of his chair. 

His mouth nipped just below her ear. “Showing my appreciation,” he answered easily, his hand sliding up her inner thigh. Then he was between her legs, massaging the soft mound he found with familiarity. 

“Mmm.” She bit her lip and let her eyes fall closed. The chair’s backing dug into her ribs, but the feeling of his chest pressing her downwards was more than enough to make up for the nuisance. “You liked it too, didn’t you?”

“Hmm?”

She grinned, already knowing the answer. “His face when I told him I was your wife.”

“Hmm,” he said again. Fingertips played with the band of her leggings, and she hissed through her teeth when he pressed his groin into her, letting her feel  _just how much_  he’d liked it. 

“How  _male_  of you,” she managed to accuse breathlessly. “Proud because you’ve got a pretty wife?”

His arms were a strong cage around her, pinning her in her position. When his tongue reached out to trace the shell of her ear, she was forced to surrender an embarrassing little moan. “I’m proud of my pretty wife, yes.” Teeth scraped down her skin. “She represents me very well in public.” The hand above her skirt groped a little roughly at her breast. “I’m rewarding her.”

Astrid couldn’t be sure if she was more baffled by his reaction or impressed by the way he was working her body like they were tools in his forge. She panted as her fingers curled and flexed in response to the things  _his_  fingers were doing to her. Fire churned in her belly, pulsing a throbbing heat through her veins. When he just barely pressed inside of her, she whimpered and squirmed. “This feels more like torture than a reward.”

“Oh? Sorry about that. Let me see what I can do to fix it.” The hand on her breast disappeared, and the sound of a belt buckle  _clinked_  in her ears. Then the warmth of his body was pressing back against hers. Her skirt was eased up.

“Oh gods–” Her exclamation was strangled. Her nails scratched over unfinished wood.

“Better?”

“Reward me.  _Please._ ”


End file.
